Once Upon Another Time
by Ooo-shiny
Summary: An ending I thought up to the last season finale, whenever that happens. Sam and Cas are dead or missing, and Dean is done with the job. So he gets in the Impala, and just drives, just like he might of done once upon another time. **SONGFIC** Song is : Once Upon Another Time by Sara Bareilles


_Once Upon Another Time_  
_Somebody's hands, who felt like mine_  
Dean's fingers brushed against the smooth, sleek black exterior of the Impala. His eyes closed for a blissful second as he felt the familiarity of the Impala under his fingertips. When he reopened them, he almost didn't recognize his own hands. They didn't look like his hands. They didn't look as rough and scarred. They didn't look like hands who had murdered. They didn't look like hands that had dug graves. They didn't look like his hands. But they felt like his hands. And that's what mattered…right? That they were his hands, even if they didn't feel like it?

Those two hands moved forward and took hold of the door handle of the car, and as he pulled it, opening the door, it creaked. The familiar creak, one that had always been there, since he was five years old.

_Turned the key, and took a drive_  
He slid into the car, and placed his hands firmly on the wheel. It felt cold. Baby's wheel rarely felt cold. It was always warm, either with the heat of sun, or from hands placed there only minutes prior. Maybe it was warning him of the emptiness and the coldness of the life he had chosen. But for once in his life, he didn't care.

He kept his hands there, until the wheel was warm, and then he turned the key slowly. He let the sound of the Impala's engine fill his ears. He could hear the rattle of legos in the vents, and smiled. He shifted gears, and pulled slowly out of the parking lot of the old motel.

_Was free_  
It felt good, just to leave, even if it be for a few precious moments. To just be alone. No crap plans set out by heaven. No one to tell him what to do, where to go. No emotions to rule his life. Nothing to do. Just drive. Just be free.

_Highway curved, the sun sank low,_  
The highway curved out for miles ahead of him, but that wasn't a problem. He had a full tank of gas, and no where to be. Baby was riding smooth today, she would be a pleasure to drive for miles and miles.

As a beautiful sunset exploded in shades of pink, red, orange and yellow on the horizon, Dean leaned back in the worn leather seat. He closed his eyes, letting the warm sun heat his face. No, the cold hadn't been a warning of the life he had chosen. There was coldness at times, but there was warmth too. There were friends, and love, and family to heat the coldness.

_Buckley on the radio,_  
Dean reached over and turned on the radio. Jeff Buckley came on, singing Hallelujah. He almost changed it, but changed his mind before he did.

_Cigarette was burning slow_  
Dean lit a cigarette. Whenever Sam thought Dean was smoking, he would make him quit. So Dean didn't do it often, just because Sam had asked-begged at one point.

_**"It will kill you," Sam had argued, throwing the package in the trash. "Enough with the self destructive behaviors Dean!"**_

_**"It won't kill me if the job does it first," Dean had responded.**_

_**"Stop it!" Sam had shouted. "Stop trying to die!"**_

_So breathe_  
Dean exhaled slowly, pushing back painful memories, extinguishing them in the back of his mind. Dwelling on the past wouldn't help him now, and he knew it. But somehow, he could imagine Sammy riding shotgun, cussing him out, and so he threw the cigarette out the window.

_Just yellow lines and tire marks_  
He looked out, far ahead, just to see how far he could see. Miles. Miles and miles of old motels, and diners out of the sixties. Just yellow lines, tire marks and Baby. That was all he had now. Those yellow lines and tire marks that stretched out for miles and miles. It hurt a bit, to think that he was alone now.

Is that what Team Free Will was now?

Dean Winchester, the road and the Impala?

Is that what it had been reduced to?

_And sun kissed skin and handle bars_  
_And where I stood was where I was to be_  
He was meant to be here though, on this old road, hands placed on the Impala's wheel, back pressed against the cool leather seats. He knew that for sure. There was no in between anymore. He belonged here, and he wasn't leaving.

_No enemies to call my own_  
For once in his life, he felt at peace. There was no job, no crap. Maybe this time around he could put all those regrets to rest, and for once, there would be no enemies. Just him and the road.

_No porch light on to pull me home_  
When Dean was a kid, he would be outside for hours, playing. When the sun had sunk low, and the light was beginning to fade, his mom would turn on the porch light, as a signal that he needed to come inside.

This time there was no porch light. Once upon another time, Sammy and Cas and even Bobby were porch lights. But they were all gone. No one would flick on the porch light this time. No more running home.

_And where I was is beautiful_  
_Because I was free_  
But at the same time, no porch light felt good. He could just roam, leave everything behind, severe all ties. No one needed him anymore, no one could call him home. He was free, just him and his Baby. And it felt good. He needed to be free more often.

_Once upon another time_  
_ Decided nothing good in dying_  
_ So I would just keep on driving_  
_ Because I was free_


End file.
